Tonight's Poet Corner: Sonnet Solstice #356
The Colonel
by Belinda Roddie
The colonel wrote a letter to her wife
with her back against an exhausted oak,
contemplating the closing of her life
as missiles fell and thick gunpowder choked
the air. Her men were falling one by one,
and her leg ached from wounds she could not tend.
She pushed her cap back, remembered her gun,
and kept scribbling away until the end.
They found her body slumped against the tree,
blood still trickling, and yet, a smile stayed
upon her face. They cleared all the debris
and carried her to a place by the bay
where her wife found her letter - torn and stained,
but readable, expressing love and pain.
by Belinda Roddie
The colonel wrote a letter to her wife
with her back against an exhausted oak,
contemplating the closing of her life
as missiles fell and thick gunpowder choked
the air. Her men were falling one by one,
and her leg ached from wounds she could not tend.
She pushed her cap back, remembered her gun,
and kept scribbling away until the end.
They found her body slumped against the tree,
blood still trickling, and yet, a smile stayed
upon her face. They cleared all the debris
and carried her to a place by the bay
where her wife found her letter - torn and stained,
but readable, expressing love and pain.
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